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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473774">Dichotomy of the Obsession</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornsmut/pseuds/cornsmut'>cornsmut</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Axiom's End - Lindsay Ellis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien/Human Relationship, Consent is Sexy, F/M, Fingering, Masturbation, Monster Boyfriend, Teratophilia, The Talk, female body positivity, fingering III now with the Fremda hand content you came here for, fingering again but this time for educational purposes, symphyle mushiness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:27:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornsmut/pseuds/cornsmut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set shortly after the events of Axiom's End.</p>
<p>It had been a long time since Cora had someone walk in on her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cora Sabino &amp; &amp;, Cora Sabino &amp; Ampersand, Corampersand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>152</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dichotomy of the Obsession</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the year since dropping out of school, Cora had caught herself occasionally missing the routine and challenge of classes and essays, so that when the new semester began she  expected to feel engaged, energized, and eager for class.<br/>
It took her less than one week to get back to watching clocks and procrastinating.<br/>
The sun had set by the time Cora stopped fooling around and got to writing her homework.<br/>
Or rather, by the time she opened MS Word and spent a good seven or eight minutes thinking about how nice it would be to have words on the page.</p>
<p>Essay’s not gonna write itself, she thought.<br/>
She drummed her fingers on the table, glanced at her open textbook.<br/>
Cora minimized Word and went looking for porn.</p>
<p>An hour or so of browsing and touching herself later, Cora was just getting close, breath starting to hitch, when she felt it. A displacement in the air, a presence where she’d been alone moments ago, and most of all, that feeling. Still she didn’t know what it was, what she could possibly compare it to, but here it was. Or rather, here he was.<br/>
And here she was, two knuckles in and panting.<br/>
Cora yanked her hand out of her pants, slamming her thighs together and spinning around in her chair, blocking the view of the computer with her body, and looking up at the Fremda standing at the door.</p>
<p>He was so big. It was easy to forget, when they were outside, or on the occasions he lay down beside her. Standing bent forward in her claustrophobic dorm, the crown of his oil-pump head endangering the ceiling, Cora was struck once more by just how large this creature was. The garish glow from her multi-colored strand of lights played over his knuckles, accentuating every joint in those long fingers of his as he stretched his neck, staring at her.<br/>
Oh God, oh God, she thought.  In the most normal voice she could muster, Cora managed, “Ampersand.”</p>
<p>He stood a moment and came forward with a few smooth, heron-like steps. His head tipped as he recognized something was wrong.<br/>
<i>
“I have made you uncomfortable.”</i></p>
<p>“No, no, no,” Cora could feel the blush rising up her neck; she crossed her legs, painfully aware of the wetness of her underwear, and folded her hands to hide the undone zipper of her pants. “No, Ampersand, you just surprised me.”<br/>
A rare awkwardness stretched between them and she felt his confusion, his concern; saw pinpricks spawning in his eyes as he searched the room for the cause of her discomfort. She realized this was hardly their normal greeting; it was the first time she’d reacted without either gladness or relief to see him back.  He was scanning the room for some kind of threat. Cora pushed herself up and closed the distance between them, starting over.<br/>
“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled, as they enfolded one another in their arms. “I’m really happy you’re here, I was just…” How could she explain so he didn’t worry but wouldn’t have to tell her symphyle that he’d walked in on her-</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“Oh, it is clear now,”</i> Ampersand said. <i> “You were masturbating.”</i></p>
<p>Cora choked, realizing too late that with her cheek pressed to his neck he had an unimpeded view of the computer. She pulled away, blush fully established, and danced back to shut the computer a little too forcefully.<br/>
“Ha ha, you caught me,” she sputtered, not meeting his stare, muscling down the urge to apologize to him. She sat back down, hands folded in her lap, willing her arousal to fade already so they could move on.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“I do not understand why masturbation should be taboo,” </i>Ampersand remarked.  <i>“You told me the obsession and taboo of sex were inspired by the bigness of creating life. Masturbation is not a generative act. Why do you feel discomfort?”</i></p>
<p>Cora sighed through her teeth, trying to think of how she could explain this.  “Remember what I said about Catholic shame?” </p>
<p>
  <i>“It is a religiously controlled act?”</i>
</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she said. “And political.” For the second time, their sex talk turned to politics.  “People enjoy sex; it’s an easy way to control people if you can tell them how to have sex.”</p>
<p>He nodded. Ampersand had a much more concrete grasp on politics than the problems and pleasures of procreation. </p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“If you are masturbating, then are you lonely, dear one?”</i> he said.  <i>“Are you unable to find a partner?”</i></p>
<p>“Uh! Aaaaaah well no- I mean yeah- I mean… well, people don’t just ma- play with themsel… masturbate because they don’t have anyone,” she said, tripping all over the terms.  “Sometimes it’s just a nice way to… to feel good, or relax.  Or just pass the time.  It’s.  It’s nice.  It doesn’t… have to mean anything.”  </p>
<p>His questions were so detached, born entirely of scientific curiosity. Cora felt her irrational squeamishness was doing a great job of demonstrating her country’s Puritanical grip on the average person’s psyche.</p>
<p>Ampersand walked around her, bending almost double as he stepped onto her bed and ducked into his roosting posture. He looked peaceful there, nestled on top of the blankets, framed by the strand of lights that played over his carapace; at ease, attentive,  his bright eyes focused on her own. </p>
<p>Cora felt a pang in her chest, looking at him. She felt that sensation that let her know when he was around, like a tug.  It was like the nostalgia of a scent she couldn’t place, something from her childhood. There was an answering twitch, further south than usual, from the place she’d just been fingering. Oh dear.</p>
<p><i>“You use your fingers,” </i>he said, bowling through whatever feeling she was trying to process. <i>“Do you not enjoy the phalluses available for the purpose?” His head cocked as she coughed.  “I have made you uncomfortable. We do not have to discuss this, as it is a taboo.”</i></p>
<p>“No, no, Ampersand I- I want to be able to talk to you about anything.”  She pinched the bridge of her nose.  “This just isn’t something I’ve… ever needed to explain to anyone before? When humans hit puberty, we start to feel-” horny? “-lust, and so masturbating is something that we tend to figure out on our own. Uh…” she cleared her throat.  “Some people really enjoy sex toys, yes. But I don’t really need… help… getting off.”</p>
<p>
  <i>“I have seen partners use sex toys on each other, instead of copulating in the natural way.”</i>
</p>
<p>Cora cleared her throat at his word choice.</p>
<p><i>“Should not the genitalia itself be best suited for stimulation?” </i>he sounded intrigued. <i>“It is evolutionary advantageous for reproduction to be so enjoyable.”</i></p>
<p>“Of course, and the- the penis and vagina do go pretty well together. Or they have for me.” It was kind of ironic how unsexy those words were. “But there are a lot of other sensations you can get by using… something else.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Such as your fingers.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Yes.”  Cora cleared her throat, uncrossed and recrossed her legs, and burst out laughing, shaking her head at herself. “Is it as awkward for Fremda to express love verbally as it is for me to talk about this?” </p>
<p>She was half joking, just trying to break the tension, but Ampersand went very still.</p>
<p>Cora fidgeted. They were long past the point where silence between them was uncomfortable, but the heat between her legs certainly was.  She looked down at her waistband, wondering if Ampersand was picking up some sort of human arousal pheromone signal, reminding herself he lacked a sense of smell.  When she looked up he was watching her.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“You are still aroused,”</i> he observed.</p>
<p>She licked her lips. “Er… I was pretty close when you interrupted me.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You can finish now.”</i>
</p>
<p>Ampersand considered her spluttering. <i>“This situation has made you stressed. Did you not suggest that relief of stress is a common function of masturbation?”</i></p>
<p>“I- I- I’m not going to just jack off right in front of<i> you,</i> though!”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Because you feel shame?”</i>
</p>
<p>That gave her pause. Was it shame? She felt embarrassed by the whole situation, how comically overblown her responses were. But was she really embarrassed by…</p>
<p>“I’m not ashamed by it,” she said slowly. “But it seems kind of weird to just do that in front of a friend.”</p>
<p><i>“I would not find this behavior to be obscene; it is as natural as your sleep requirements and feeding habits.”</i> He reminded her: <i>“Protoamygdalines evolved no taboos against reproduction.”</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know. It’s… just not something humans just do in front of each other like that.”<br/>
His focus intensified. The alien roosting on her dorm room bed did not speak, but she heard the echo of his words from before.</p>
<p>
  <i>I am not human.</i>
</p>
<p>Cora hesitated. Again she felt something, something unfamiliar and indescribable, and with it a sense of peacefulness, an assuredness that had not been common to her in the last few years. </p>
<p>Well.  If Ampersand was going to see this through the lens of xenobiology either way, she thought she could at least clear up some of the impressions he’d gotten from looking at porn out of context.</p>
<p>Cora sighed.  “You know the, the anatomy?” She knew he knew, but that seemed a good place to start.</p>
<p>
  <i>“I do.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>Better than me, probably. </i> “Okay...okay.”<br/>
Cora’s hands hovered over her waistband, still pinned by the shackles of her culture’s repression. She undid the button, unzipped, and after a final moment pushed her pants and underwear down off her hips.</p>
<p>Ampersand didn’t move or speak as she sat for a few seconds, exposed to the dim, colorful lighting of her dorm.<br/>
“So… uh… everyone calls this the ‘vagina,’ but the external part is actually the- the ‘vulva.’ Or the ‘labia…’ I… just realized I’m not sure the difference between the ‘vulva’ and the ‘labia,’ it’s the lips here…”  She felt the curling hair, and traced her fingertips over the mound and over one fold.  It’d be so much easier to think of this as purely clinical if-</p>
<p>
  <i>“The vulva consists of the external portion of the female genitalia, including the mons pubis, labia majora and minora, clitoris and clitoral hood, vestibular bulbs, vestibule of the vulva, vaginal opening, urinary meatus,  hymen, and Bartholin's and Skene's vestibular glands.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Uh.” Cora clicked her tongue. “Right! Okay, with that setting the mood…. A lot of people don’t know that? Men and women. They just think ‘vagina’ and, I mean hopefully, know there’s a ‘clitoris.’ So…” Cora opened her thighs and dipped two fingers down, spreading open. </p>
<p>This wasn’t the first time she’d played with herself for an audience, though it was the first time she’d done so for educational purposes.</p>
<p>“This is the clitoris. That’s the first place I, um, feel it, when I get excited. It feels… tight, I guess? And gets more sensitive.” Cora ran her finger along the side of it, sliding in the lubricant, and pressed down. She inhaled at the sensation.  “I’m pretty sensitive right now,” she admitted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“It is engorged with blood during arousal, analogous to the erection of the male penis,” </i>Ampersand recited.  <i>“The vaginal canal elongates, and-”</i></p>
<p>“Okay, okay, so we’ve got the anatomy and physiology down,” she said. “I…. you know I never realized how unsexy all of these terms are until right now.”  He cocked his head and she went on, “Usually when we talk about it we’ll say ‘clit,’ ‘cock,’ that sort of thing.  You know, euphemisms.”</p>
<p>
  <i>“Because of the taboo.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Right. So,” she curled her fingers around one- ugh, <i>labia</i>- and pinched lightly, rolling it between her fingers.  “Ah. So stimulation here is good. It’s not as nice as the clit- clitoris, clitoral stimulation….” Cora met his patient, interested, intense and nonjudgemental eyes, and finally just had a good laugh at herself.  No wonder Ampersand didn’t get it; there was a total divorce of the clinical, anatomical education and the language of pleasure she’d pieced together from partners and fanfics. “I’m sorry, I must be giving you weird ideas about sex by being so flustered talking about this, when I like to think I kept it pretty cool when I was afraid for my life and caught between the U.S. government and annihilation.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“That is perfectly understandable. In dangerous times it is common for organisms mask signs of stress or weakness so as to appear less vulnerable to threats.”</i>
</p>
<p>“I’m not doing a good job of masking anything, right now, am I?”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Because you trust me.”</i>
</p>
<p>Again, that pang. </p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Cora looked down, and returned to the topic at hand. “The clitoris is really sensitive, it can be uncomfortable or even painful if I’m really turned on and it gets touched directly. Some women are into that…? I like kind of indirect contact, like… like this...”</p>
<p>Ampersand leaned forward to watch and Cora lapsed into silence, demonstrating.  She angled her thigh for greater access, squeezing, rolling and massaging herself. Her body seemed eager to regain the state just before he’d interrupted her, breath hitching.  </p>
<p>“You don’t need penetration at all, to get off,” Cora mumbled, pressing circular motions into the warm, soft, wet skin just to the side of her clit.  “People are kind of obsessed with fucking or, uh, like big dicks? It’s one of the most common things in porn. But it’s actually easier to climax from clitoral stimulation.” She’d met an awful lot of guys who had failed to be educated on this front. It’s not the size of your boat…<br/>
Cora laughed again, at the absurdity of the situation. “Penetration feels good, but only after you’re aroused. The vagina… makes space, I guess? And you get uh… wetter.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“The body prepares itself for coupling.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Right. So like… you have to be turned on to actually enjoy any of this stimulation, usually? Otherwise it’s not… actually that sensitive, or that pleasant. But once you are aroused, the stimulation can make you more aroused, and then it feels better.”</p>
<p>Ampersand nodded. She supposed this part had straightforward biomechanics.</p>
<p>“I can stimulate myself into arousal if I’m just bored or wanting to pass the time… or I can look at porn or something to get in the mood.  Porn is a fantasy,” she clarified.  “It’s not- it’s not supposed to teach you how to do something, it’s a situation that gets you hot. Most of the time it’s just actors going through the motions for the camera.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“This is why there is so little touching in the videos? Beyond the penetrative act itself.”</i>
</p>
<p>“I… never thought about that but yes, actually.  Most porn is between people who don’t care about each other.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“And the actors are selected for prominent visible sexual characteristics, and emphasize their aspect of pleasure, to arouse the viewer.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Right. They also skip most of the foreplay, so people don’t realize how long it can take to, to hit climax… I uh, had put in a lot of time just before you got here, so I was already kind of ready...” Cora’s  fingers slid over one another as she continued to touch herself. She looked down, then away, and fingered the opening. She ran the tips of her middle and ring finger over the taught muscle, pressing where she knew it felt the best, and then slipped two fingers inside.</p>
<p>“Mm. There’s a lot of… dumb ideas about this part,” she said, leaning forward flicking her fingertips rapidly into the wall.  “The best part is… for me… is right- here, kind of in the front, just inside. If someone’s too long, he can- hit the back and that’s really uncomfortable, and… oh…” Cora’s eyes closed, warm pleasure building under her touch.  “Too much girth hurts, and it isn’t necessary, you just need to know where to…” Cora grunted, hearing the heat in her breath, feeling her brows raise.  She had found just the right spot and massaged at it faster, squeezing her thighs together, feeling sweat prickle the back of her neck.</p>
<p>When her eyes opened she gasped; Ampersand had silently left the bed and was standing over her, one galactic eye filling her vision. His proximity was not startling; if anything it played right into the excitement building in her groin.</p>
<p>At the very back of her mind an idea was trying to give itself voice, a logical, Puritanical little dissenter that wanted to say You’re making eye contact with an alien as you come, what are you doing, is this turning you on? What does it mean if-<br/>
Cora inhaled, and cried out as she crested, the tight heat giving way to strong, rhythmic contractions. Her hand slowed but she continued to massage, drawing out the climax, panting.</p>
<p>As her heartbeat and breathing returned to normal, she stared at Ampersand.  He stood over her, watching, learning she supposed.<br/>
The little voice was back, and with it the old specter of shame.<br/>
“What- what are you thinking?” She blurted out.</p>
<p>His long, spidery fingers unfolded and caressed her wrist, drawing up her hand to his eye. Cora swallowed as he inspected it, seeing how the light played over the fluid. <i>“It is not painful.”</i> He seemed to be reaffirming the idea to himself.</p>
<p>“No. Not at all.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Are you relaxed?”</i>
</p>
<p>She snorted.  “I’m a little embarrassed that I just did that in front of you! But, yeah that was relaxing. Or will be, when I catch my breath.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“Strenuous,” </i> he commented.  <i>“An activity with high energy cost, that places one in a vulnerable state. It explains the strong pleasurable reward, the arousal.”</i></p>
<p>“So… I guess that explains the ‘obsession’ half your ‘obsession/taboo dichotomy.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“It does.</i>” He released her wrist, letting his fingertips rest instead on her knee.  <i>“But masturbation is still strange to me. A drive designed to encourage reproduction should not be so easily satisfied by solitary acts. Perhaps as a means of relief when a partner is unavailable, yet you say masturbation is common for non-reproductive purposes, even when mating is an option.”</i></p>
<p>“First of all, never say ‘mating’ to me again, got it? That’s an animal word. <i>People</i> ‘have sex.”  Or… ‘make love’ or ‘fuck.’ Second, we’re a social species, remember? Even if you don’t want another kid out of every encounter, sexual partners can be really nice to have around.  And I guess… in old times it was a good way to support each other?” Cora was vaguely aware of the idea that other hyper-intelligent, very social animals like chimps and dolphins were also promiscuous fuckers, but she wasn’t going to cross the line she’d just drawn to start comparing humans to bonobos.  </p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Is the sensation of masturbation different from that of fucking?”</i>
</p>
<p>Cora snorted. “’Having sex.’ Just say ‘having sex,’ Ampersand. And yes, some of them. Sometimes when I… sometimes when you’re in a relationship, one person is more into it than the other, on a given occasion, but you’ll still have sex to please your partner.” She’d been on both sides of that one.  </p>
<p>Ampersand sat, folding his knees beneath him so their faces were level. </p>
<p>“When you are both really into it, it’s a lot more exciting than just playing with yourself.  Good foreplay is a big deal- way better than just watching porn or something.  Some couples do watch porn together to get in the mood, though.  Um. Anyway. You’re never quite sure what your partner will do, how they’re going to touch you, and they’re getting aroused by you which is a really hot thing to think about, when you’re getting aroused by them.” </p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“It is more pleasurable between partners.”</i>
</p>
<p>“It can be, yes.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“And serves to strengthen bonds within a relationship.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Do you wish to have sex with me, dear one?”</i>
</p>
<p><i>“Uhh.”</i> She blinked a few times, mouth working, but could only managed another, highly flustered, “Uh? Excuse me?”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“If this is an act that would deepen your sense of connection with me, as your symphyle, I would accommodate you.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Do you…” Cora was laughing again. Rather than the mortifaction one might expect from masturbating for the education of and then being propositioned by an alien, she felt a sudden ease, a clarity at how ridiculous was the pretense that sex was sacred and serious.  “Ampersand, can you even have sex? I haven’t noticed your body having, er. Junk.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You refer to genitalia.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Yes.” Cora leaned forward, eyes moving down his body. She was intrigued despite herself.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Amygdaline reproductive structures are present, but vestigial.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Did… do Genomes have functioning genitals?”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“Genome reproduction is functional,”</i> he confirmed. <i> “However, the Amygdaline genitalia are not built for pleasurable coupling or masturbation. They would not be compatible for a human partner.”</i></p>
<p>Cora nodded, processing the ideas.  Ampersand was not human- very, very much not a human person, why was she even thinking about… except, why not? She looked at him again, feeling their connection with a sense she didn’t know. He was no animal. Quite the contrary- Cora’s mouth tightened at the idea that in some ways he might still view her as one.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“While I could not have sex with you in the human way, I could stimulate you in ways that satisfy the criteria you have described, and facilitate the bonding that accompanies sharing such an experience.”</i>
</p>
<p>“You… wouldn’t really know what to do, though. I’d kind of just be walking you through it, and that’d be… super weird, just telling you what to do.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Is that not similar to how you instructed me to touch you, when you were nesting?”</i>
</p>
<p>Well he had a point, there.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I would need some guidance initially. Even so, you would be uncertain exactly how I would touch you, which you have said is exciting, and I can produce sensations your fingers cannot.”</i>
</p>
<p>“You… okay that’s a really generous offer, I guess?” She tried not to get distracted by thoughts of said sensations. “But you sound like a plumber.  I can get myself off just fine, I don’t need you to… that’s not something I want to think about being your chore.” Cora sighed, caught his muzzle, and pressed her forehead into the white skin of his face. “I told you, the hottest part is how much your partner is into you. People can have really great sex with people that don’t really mean anything to them, or really boring sex with people they love, or really intense, intimate friendships with people they’d never have sex with. I already know you care about me, we don’t have to have sex to prove anything.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“I do not require further affirmations,” </i>he said, leaning into her, fingers unfolding over her shoulders. <i>“I would need some instruction, but believe I can offer you an experience you would find enjoyable.”</i></p>
<p>“But… you wouldn’t enjoy it, Ampersand.  You’d just be doing something for me, that didn’t cause you any pleasure.”</p>
<p>He pulled back so he was looking in her eyes again, fingers as her jawline and throat.  </p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You are my symphyle. There is little that could please me more than to know I have brought you pleasure.”</i>
</p>
<p>She looked at him, mouth dry. Swallowed. “Well.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ampersand sat quietly for all the time it took Cora to think about it, mulling over thoughts and feelings.    She asked him to tell her what he’d seen, how he thought things were supposed to go. There were a few major flaws in his understanding, but he also knew things she herself wasn’t aware of as they talked about foreplay. Cora kept thinking she stop, say ‘maybe someday’, drop the subject, but always found herself continuing; as they spoke together she felt the power of the taboo eroding. It was hard to hold to convention in the safe intimacy of their connection. </p>
<p>“Alright,” she said at last.  “I guess, let’s give it a try.”</p>
<p>Ampersand stood up, put his hands on her shoulders, gripped them and brushed the side of his muzzle against her cheek.  Cora swallowed; his touch stirred trepidation and anticipation in her chest. She cupped his face, loosing herself in his gave as he moved his hands down her ribs, her hips, thumbs ghosting over her inner thighs.</p>
<p>Ampersand’s hands opened, fingers deftly moving over her shoulders and chest. They found the buttons of her blouse and began to undo them, slowing down when she put a hand on his wrist.<br/>
Cora watched as button by button came open, exposing her skin and the beige of her bra. Her head swam as he undressed her, some mixture of hope and horror, self-consciousness and abandon. He moved the fabric away and she felt her skin buzz wherever his fingertips grazed her; she leaned forward and shrugged out of the blouse and he unclasped her bra with a single, effortless flick of one finger.</p>
<p>Cora watched his face as his focus split, points leaving her face to take in her naked body.  It wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before, but then, the last time had been under a very different context. Ampersand set his small, slender palms on her hips and Cora’s back arched as his fingers moved around her, feeling the hillock of her tummy, the dimples at the small of her back.  What must her soft, natural alien body look like to him?<br/>
The words of the Similars came back, unbidden:<i> Fragile. Very fragile.</i></p>
<p>Ampersand noticed her grimace. <i>“You are uncomfortable?”</i></p>
<p>“No, no.  I just… I’m having trouble imagining that you like what you see, if you know what I mean?” She gave a nervous half-chuckle.  “I can’t imagine this is doing much for you.”</p>
<p>His fingers stilled. <i>“I am not exciting you?”</i></p>
<p>“You… definitely are.”</p>
<p>He gave his head a brief, birdlike dip. <i>“Then I am pleased.”</i></p>
<p>Cora exhaled.  “Okay.” </p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“We do not need to continue.”</i>
</p>
<p>“I’ll… let’s try a little more.  I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.”</p>
<p>Cora guided his hands, leading him in touching her breasts, nipples, hips. Her skin tingled wherever he touched her, and she wanted more; she wanted to wrap herself around him, wanted her mouth on…<br/>
She pressed her face to his again, then took his hand and brought two knuckles to her mouth. </p>
<p>Ampersand froze.</p>
<p>Her eyes popped open. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Are you going to bite me?”</i>
</p>
<p>She pulled away.  “No! That was a kiss.”</p>
<p>He still didn’t move, and she broke into a laugh.  “Ampersand, after everything you’ve had to do to keep me safe, are you still afraid I’m going to eat you?”</p>
<p>He relaxed, and Cora threw her arms around his torso, pulling him into her chest. Without thinking she pushed her hips forward, pressing her stomach to his, and felt a resultant want blooming between her legs.  Ampersand scooped her up, repositioning her so she could lean back on the chair, one hand supporting her lumbar, her own hand still on his shoulder like dance partners. They looked down to the space between them, to where she straddled him.  Ampersand put a hand on her thigh, gently pulling himself away and twisting to wrap her in a side hug.</p>
<p>Cora looked at his long, slender spider-legged hand, feeling a flutter of trepidation at the idea of it moving inside her, but his fingers flexed and began to move, many little pieces rearranging.  The digits shortened, three pairs pressing together together and a slick, rubbery substance flowing over them, softening the edges.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Cora said.</p>
<p>The freshly modified hand hovered over her, and she was surprised by the strength of her own anticipation.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Do you consent?”</i>
</p>
<p>“Yes!” </p>
<p>He touched one finger to the skin just below her navel, drawing it down, through the hair and over her entrance, a stroke he repeated twice before he curled one finger into the cleft and began to roll the skin between his fingers, just as she had demonstrated. His touch was uncharacteristically tentative, and so light she felt teased. The situation, the idea of what was happening was electric- but his technique needed a little workshopping.</p>
<p>“Okay, yeah, like that,” she said, guiding his hand.  “Mm. Not just there- move around more. Vary up the pressure a little bit.” He did exactly as instructed, massaging and rubbing where she had indicated, where she had seen her touching herself. When his fingers had been well-lubricated he moved a fingertip up, just skirting the clitoris, and pressed. Cora gasped, leaning instinctively into his touch. He moved in a small circle, on one side then the other, not touching it directly. The taught, warm need was returning, aching to be touched. “Yeah, that’s good,” she whispered.  </p>
<p>Still occupied between her legs, he curled the fingers of his free hand up from behind her back. They skittered over her skin, scritching quick trails through her hair, feeling the contours of her collarbones, tracing behind her ear. Cora stretched, leaning into him, body luxuriating in the attention.</p>
<p>“You’re, pretty good at this, for your first time,” she teased, grinning.</p>
<p>Ampersand’s fingers bent and began to circle her entrance, rubbing and pressing into the muscle as he’d seen her do. He slipped one inside, she felt the bumps of his knuckles through their rubbery coating and bit her lip. He slowed, really taking his time, exploring her; he slid a second finger in and she inhaled as they started to move independently.</p>
<p>“Little more pressure, and faster,” she muttered. He obliged. Cora huffed and hooked one knee around his leg, pulling herself closer to him. After a minute or two of his dual-finger action, he curled one forward, into the place she’d mentioned, as the other continued to pump. For an instant it was just deep pressure, sudden enough to make her wince, and then it started to move.</p>
<p>And change.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The digit unfolded, dozens of tiny little pieces rearranging themselves, branching and spreading and then pushing into her.  Cora cried out, the sensation strong enough that she felt it down her thighs and up through her chest. She shifted in her seat, looking questioningly to him, but he moved with her and repeated the motion, making her gasp. She could feel many little points of contact, moving and massaging independent of one another, pressing into just where she’d mentioned she liked to touch. As they circled, a new sensation began- no buzz or hum of vibration, but a deep, building pulse.</p>
<p>Cora jerked upright. “Ah! Am- Ampersand, that’s- that’s a<i> lot.”</i></p>
<p>His hand stilled at once.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Did that hurt you?”</i>
</p>
<p>“No. No. ...Could you. Tone it down a little and do that again?”</p>
<p>He hesitated, then his wrist shivered, his fingers moved and a second wave passed into her. Cora exhaled forcefully, knees trembling. “O-okay. <i>Wow.</i> You… were not joking about the ‘sensations,’ huh.”  </p>
<p>Ampersand drew his hand away, free hand cupping her shoulder.  <i>“Is it not pleasant?” </i></p>
<p>“I think…” Cora licked her lips as he wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow.  “I think I want to feel that some more, but… take it easy?  That was a lot.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“I became overly enthusiastic,” </i>he sounded uncharacteristically chastened.</p>
<p>“For someone who got his sexual education off porn you’re doing great,” she reassured.  “And- enthusiasm is pretty hot.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Not painful?”</i>
</p>
<p>“No.” She pressed her cheek to his muzzle. “Little too intense, but you’re good.” </p>
<p>He pressed into her cheek, caressing her vulva before slipping back inside. Cora emitted a contented moan as those fingers went to work. The reconstructed fingertips roved, circling and massaging; the other fingers set to asynchronously pumping in and out.  He was now showing an acute attention to detail, responding to her noises and they way she was moving her hips; he seemed to notice immediately whenever he found just the right spot, adjusting angle and tempo to perfect the stimulation. After a few minutes, he treated her to another pulse, much lighter than previously but still enough to rob her of her breath. </p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You told me real sex was not as loud as porn.”</i>
</p>
<p>“I said-! <i>Mm,</i> I said it wasn’t <i>usually,</i>” she managed. Only then did she remember where she was, think of what she was doing, there was that voice, this was a dorm, she had neighbors...</p>
<p>Ampersand’s hand pivoted inside her. He bent his thumbs and pressed a knuckle down on either side of her clit, squeezing it between them, massaging deep into the roots.</p>
<p>Before she could draw breath enough for the moan that had earned he turned his face against the side of her neck, pushing hard enough to pin her against the chair.</p>
<p>His fingers in her hair, the triple stimulus of his hand, and now the feel of her own pulse throbbing against his skin were overwhelming. She might have told him as much had she any time before the orgasm hit, pleasure spiking to a pinnacle so desperate it hurt and spilling over to quaking, shuddering climax.  </p>
<p>The contractions erupted, more powerful than she could ever remember, ecstatic waves rushing down her legs to curl her toes, up through her chest and into her nipples. Cora scrabbled at his neck, clawing against the carapace, gasping for breath, hips bucking. Ampersand moved with her, his fingers stilled but not stopped, playing out the sensation for everything it was worth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When her breathing had evened out enough to speak, Ampersand pulled back, points of focus dancing over her face and body. He was still holding her, still inside her, still cradling her in one arm.</p>
<p>Cora raised a trembling hand to clear the sweat from her brow, and brushed along the side of his face. He tipped his cheek into her palm. Cora closed her eyes, listening to her own slow, deep panting.  She felt she ought to say something, praise him, reassure him, anything… but the words for what she was feeling felt as inadequate as they were unnecessary. </p>
<p>Then Ampersand’s hands started moving again.</p>
<p>Cora’s eyes popped open. “What…?” </p>
<p>Ampersand’s head tipped. <i>“You are finished?”</i></p>
<p>She was incredulous. “H-hah, yes, I’m finished. Did you not feel that?”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p><i>“Females are capable of multiple orgasms in a session,”</i> Ampersand answered.  <i>“I am not fatigued, and would continue to stimulate you.” </i>His word choice wasn’t sexy, but Cora thought there just might be an eager note she hadn’t heard before.</p>
<p>She was too tired to laugh, but a weary, heartfelt smile spread over her face.  “I think that’s something we can work up to in the future.”</p>
<p>She closed her eyes again and Ampersand lifted her, setting her onto the far edge of the bed and squeezing into the narrow space beside her. She looked up to the old popcorn ceiling, Ampersand’s hands both back to normal and trailing over her ribs and throat, framing her face.</p>
<p>“I really wish…” she murmured, when she felt able to speak again, “...there was anything I could do for you that felt half as amazing as that did.”  His fingertips in her hair were feeding the afterglow; she didn’t think she could have sat up if the room caught fire.</p>
<p>His scritching pattern never wavered: five seconds on, five seconds off.</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Wholly unnecessary.”</i>
</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I want to.”</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“This is enough.”</i>
</p>
<p>“I don’t want you to get flustered, but Ampersand, I really love you.”</p>
<p>He went still.  Cora looked at him, wondering if she had crossed a line, but saw only those dancing, alien points of light.<br/>
She didn’t need the high language to know his reply.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I would like to thank Lindsay Ellis, for setting up the kind of relationship where an encounter like this seemed to be perfectly in-character; my boyfriend, whose openness and positivity made this an easy topic to write about; and my allosexual beta readers, who assured me I wasn't writing misguided cringey bad erotica.</p>
<p>I wasn't planning to write instructive edu-taining vagina-positive smut when I decided Corampersand smut was in order, but that's just how it goes some times.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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